


La Douleur Exquise

by proseoflife



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:06:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4526691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proseoflife/pseuds/proseoflife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot AU fic.<br/>The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Douleur Exquise

     I met her at a seminar in Philadelphia, about five years ago, that Dr Aldous Leekie had hosted on the studies of Evolutionary Developmental biology. I remember how she stood out from the crowd of mainly stereotypical geek-looking types; rather she was this tall, beautiful blonde, with a wave of messy locks. She intrigued me quickly, and I found myself pondering on how I would go about introducing myself to this woman.

 

     Dr Leekie was an incredible speaker, and a brilliant scientist. I had done my research on him before coming to his seminar, in a sincere and innocent hope that I might get to speak with him briefly after the seminar. So, when I saw her standing by his side speaking to other attendees, I was a little taken aback. _Who was she to him_ , I had asked myself. Of all the articles and papers I read, to Wikipedia, it made no mention of Dr Leekie being married, or even in a relationship.

 

     He was surrounded by people to his left, to his right, front, and back; I needed to find another opening. I took this moment to head to the bar at the back, and order a glass of red. I sat on one of the empty bar stools, took out my phone, and began to type in Dr. Leekie in a web-browser. _Maybe there was something I missed?_ It came as a shock, and also a delightful surprise, when I was suddenly tapped on the shoulder by _her_. My face must have gone twelve shades of Casper-white, when I saw her standing there. Puzzled, I simply sat there quietly (silently cursing myself for the lack of words I had in that moment) whilst she began to tell me I had left my book behind. She had an eloquent French accent; it wasn’t thick or heavy, but rather petite and inviting. Instantly I was smitten.

 

     We exchanged pleasantries for a few more moments, while my insides wanted to suffocate by tying knots in the pit of my stomach. I honestly believed that a game of Jumanji was happening inside my body, but I kept it together long enough to find out her name was Dr Delphine Cormier, and she was working alongside Dr. Leekie at the DYAD institute. _A-ha_ , I thought. _Of course_. She left and bid me adieu, and I fell apart a little on the inside.

 

     The following morning, as I was checking out of my hotel, I literally ran into her and Dr. Leekie. It was awkward, silly, and I was a fumbling mess. I was never one to really watch where I was walking, or what I was doing for that matter, so it came as no surprise that the one person in the entire world that I had to run into, would be her – _Delphine Cormier._ Papers, bags, the works flew everywhere, and as I tried to rectify my clumsiness, I believe I only made matters worse. I wanted to cower into a corner somewhere, and cry myself to sleep, but she never once stopped smiling. Not once. In that moment I thought she was, perhaps, the most elegant and graceful human being I had ever experienced.

 

     I escaped as quickly as I could, not before being introduced to Dr. Leekie and the dreaded small-talk that followed thereafter. This was not how I imagined I would be meeting the incredible Dr. Aldous Leekie, but here we were – three brilliant and clever minds failing miserably at forming words more than two syllables long. I rushed off, giving some excuse about my cab waiting for me, and we parted ways. Finally.

 

     Six months later, I met Shay and we quickly fell for each other. She challenged my beliefs, as a scientist, to believe in the mystics and wonders of the universe: to believe in something greater than us all. It wasn’t hard to fall for her, with her quick wit, intellectual charm, and she gave a killer massage. Not long after that I found myself introducing her to my family, and making plans to move in with one another.

 

     People have always said that moving in with your significant other is always one of the greatest challenges to any relationship, but for Shay and I it all came easy and hassle-free. I wholeheartedly believed that she was the yin to my yang, and I think that’s why we worked. Everything about moving in and making those commitments, was fun for me. Buying new furniture, to decorating our place, and having friends over and cook for them – it was all fun. I was loving every minute of our relationship. Before we knew it, those minutes had turned into years.

 

     I think it was about two years ago, when I saw her again. I hadn’t thought of her in all this time, and to see her randomly standing outside some store in New York City, as Shay and I were arm in arm, took me by surprise (to say the least). She hadn’t changed in all this time, she still looked as beautiful as ever; her hair still a messy wave of blonde locks, that only enriched her already beautiful frame. My breath was more than just taken away, I was gobsmacked and kicked in the gut. I had every intention of walking by without saying a word, but before I knew what was happening my mouth was speaking and I was there, once again, a fumbling mess.

 

     To make matters worse, we – Shay – had invited her to have dinner with us that evening, which I can only assume she accepted because she is the most polite and gracious human that ever walked this planet. After our brief interaction, Shay had asked the typical questions on how I knew her (which I didn’t know her), and so how do you respond to those questions? I gave her the simple truths – I had met her at a seminar, some years ago. And that was that.

 

     I opted to drive to the restaurant, which I knew would prevent me from drinking that night. I was already a fumbling idiot around Delphine, when I was sober, that I didn’t dare imagine what I would be like if I were a little tipsy. Thankfully Shay was a natural conversationalist (not that I wasn’t) and I spent the evening mainly listening to both women talk amongst themselves, while I offered the casual nod of agreement, smile, and other pleasantry. I was extremely uncomfortable, to say the least, but I felt a guilt for something that I had only ever construed in my head – and that was a very long time ago. Yes, Delphine was gorgeous. Yes, she was still gorgeous. But I was very much in love with Shay, and a brief encounter that I had years ago, with this woman I barely said two words to, does not mean anything more than just that – a brief encounter.

 

     But, being attracted to two women at the same time, in this very moment, was more than just a brief encounter. I found myself undressing Delphine with my eyes, and I had to mentally slap myself more than once for doing such a thing. I couldn’t do this to Shay, who was sitting right there next to Delphine. I tried to hurry along the evening the best I could, and after two hours (long and excruciatingly painful hours) we were about to part ways again. Until Shay had the bright idea that I would also drive Delphine back to her hotel, which was a little further down from where we were staying.

 

     Shay waved us off, as she got out of the car, and Delphine had given some quick directions to her hotel. I kind of already knew where it was, but this was one of only a handful of times I had driven in the crazy New York City traffic. We didn’t chat all that much, which was fast becoming a natural conclusion in the Delphine and Cosima conversations. I pulled up outside of her hotel, we said our goodbyes, and she left. My hands were shaking and I knew I wasn’t in any real position to continue on driving, so I pulled into a parking bay and turned off the engine.

 

     My heart beating fast and hard, I sat there frozen, staring out into an abyss.

 

     Out of nowhere, I heard a tap on my window. I thought for sure that I had passed out, or blacked out, and that this was the police coming to see if I was alright. Or maybe it was the concierge wanting me to move, because I had taken up space. But it was neither of those scenarios; it was _her_. I rolled down my window, to which she asked if I was okay. I didn’t know how to respond, so I simply shook my head, not daring to look at her. I didn’t want her to see me, and I especially didn’t want her to know that this right here, was because of her. On cue, however, she opened the passenger’s door and sat back in. She took my hand, in hers, and tightly squeezed it. She entwined our fingers together, and I wanted to scream – out of horror, shock, desperation. I don’t even really remember the exact emotions I was feeling in that moment. What I do remember, is how I didn’t want her to stop touching me. I wanted more. I wanted to feel her, and I wanted her to feel me.

 

     That night was the first night we kissed. Her lips tasted like cigarettes, but it didn’t offend me or even deter me from wanting/craving more. Our tongues met hastily, and our teeth collided more than once. I felt like I was 15 again, and kissing for the first time. It was exciting and messy, and if I took a moment to really describe what it felt like it would be this: she was fucking my mouth with her tongue. Her hands were all over me, and I could feel my insides trembling. I was weakened at the knees, my head felt intoxicated, and before I knew it my fingers were inside her.

 

     I got back to my own hotel room an hour later. Shay was fast asleep, which I was quietly thankful for. I didn’t want to have to think of a lie on the spot on what I was doing for the past hour. I undressed, and went and turned the shower on. I stood in front of the mirror and desperately tried searching myself. I had no answers though. I slipped into the shower, and stood motionless under the falling water; silently crying.

 

     A year went by, and I had all but pushed aside the distant memory of Delphine into a box. Threw away the key and all. My relationship with Shay had somewhat shifted, unequivocally because I had often argued with myself on whether or not I should tell her of my infidelity. I leaned on my sister Sarah quite a bit. She was always the pillar of strength, and had a knack of knowing what to do in crisis mode. _If you tell her, you’ll hurt her_ – she said. _And if you don’t tell her, you’ll hurt yourself_. I opted for the latter, after a very long battle of do-I-or-don’t-I.

 

     After a move to Toronto, for a job opportunity, I finally felt like my relationship with Shay was back on track. She always assumed that our relationship was on edge because of my stress of wanting to provide a good life for the both of us, and I didn’t allow her to think any differently. I did want to provide a decent life for the both of us. Toronto had provided us both fantastic opportunities, and we both connected again. And then I saw _her_ again.

 

     What was it about this woman, and why would I continue to see her sporadically in my lifetime? Was this Jung’s infamous form of Synchronicity? I couldn’t say no when she invited me for lunch, and as we sat playing with our salad’s, conversation actually seemed to flow this time. Surprisingly enough. Her demeanor had changed since I last saw her. My demeanor had changed since I last saw her. Conversation flowed, and for the first time since I first saw her, I actually felt at ease.

 

     I excused myself to freshen up, and a few moments later she had followed me into the bathroom stall. We were fucking again. Her fingers inside me, and my fingers inside her. Surely the people entering and exiting knew what was happening – after all we weren’t being quiet about it. She pleaded with me to turn her around and fuck her from behind, which I did. And then her head was between my legs, and I begged her to fuck me – to take me, all of me. She did.

 

     I went home. I undressed. I turned on the shower. I stared at myself in the mirror. I motionlessly stood under the falling drops of water, and silently cried. Rinse. Lather. Repeat.

 

     The next day I was running a fever, but I was honestly just exhausted from all the back and forth conversation (with myself) that I was having. I had been unfaithful again. Shay didn’t deserve this, and I sure as shit didn’t deserve her. I couldn’t help myself with Delphine. I was mesmerized, drawn-in, captivated, enchanted. I wanted, wanted, and wanted. Craved, needed, and desired. I kept telling myself that this was just a fantasy, and I wanted something I couldn’t have. I was in so much pain. I was so angry with myself, and with her. How dare she come into my life and screw everything up.

  
     But it wasn’t her fault.

 

     It wasn’t her fault that I felt more alive with her, then I had in my entire relationship. It wasn’t her fault that I wanted her, and not my girlfriend. This was something I needed to face up to, and take responsibility for.

 

     After Shay and I ended our relationship, I moved in with Sarah back in San Francisco. I quit everything. I quit my job that I loved. I quit my relationship with someone who loved me. And here I was, with nothing but my guilt and an invitation to Delphine and Aldous’ wedding. I was really winning at this game of life.

 

     I drank myself into a stupor. I took drugs, and had a lot of meaningless sex. I don’t know if this was what they call depression, I mean as a scientist you would think I’d have an inkling of an idea. But, all I cared about was fucking, and drinking, and getting high, and forgetting everything that was.

 

     I never intended on going to the wedding, but I saw myself standing there in and amongst all these unfamiliar faces. There were only two faces I knew – his and _hers_. I gave them my congratulations and gave them some excuse about why I couldn’t stay for the reception. They both thanked me for coming, they both hugged me, and I left. I found the nearest bar to the ceremony, and ordered 5 shots of tequila. One for each of the years I had found myself to be in love with Delphine. The bartender asked me if I wanted to talk about it, and I simply said I was here to drink and that was it. He understood, and left me to my own devices. The jukebox was playing in the background, and some sad song (of course) was playing. I downed the first harsh shot, and almost immediately spat it back up. It had been awhile since I had tequila.

 

 _Fuck you_ , I said. _Fuck you for coming into my life_. I took another shot.

 

 _How dare you fuck me_. I took another shot. _How dare you let me fuck you like that_.

 

 _I never wanted to fall for you_. Another shot. _But, I have._

_And now you’re married to him._ I gave the last shot of tequila back to the bartender, and told him to drink it instead; I was done.

 

     In my drunken state, I had managed to somehow find myself back in the presence of Delphine. I looked around, and this wasn’t some fancy reception – _where was I and how did I get here?_ Apparently I called her, from the bar, and she excused herself from her wedding reception to find me. _Fuck her_. And as if this was a story on repeat, we were fucking again. This time in the backseat of her car, and if anyone ever tells you that fucking in a car is great – they’re full of shit. It’s small and confined, and there’s no room for movement of any type. But neither of us cared, as her tongue circled my clit and her mouth took all of me again. I came quickly, and she almost looked disappointed. I told her to kiss me, and she did. I tasted my sex on her lips, this time, and I got aroused again. _Fuck me_ , I said. _Love me_.

 

     Home. Undress. Shower. Mirror. Cry.

 

     I had read in some paper somewhere that Delphine and Aldous were living in France, now. It was probably for the best, knowing that I could quite possibly move on with my life, with the hope of not running into them anymore. There was always that fear that I would run into them, in some sporadic and random moment (as life had harshly reminded me) and I would crumble; become a mess and fall apart. Thankfully, though, they were gone.

 

     Maybe now my heart can finally move on from this pain of wanting someone I could never have.

**Author's Note:**

> There's an epilogue I wrote after originally finishing this piece, that sees this deter from the title (because I believe in these two characters regardless of whatever AU scenario we (as writers) give them). I chose not to use it, but would be happy to somehow incorporate it in as a second (and final chapter) or as another one-shot.


End file.
